


Words I Cannot Say

by DaughterOfAthena



Category: Dragon's Dogma
Genre: But not right now, I might tag the rest of them later, Im going to imagine that most people can read and there's a system of sign langauge, M/M, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, and it's my NaNoWriMo project, but this is going to be a long fic, hold on for the ride, hopefully I can get through this, just a little, let me have that much and we'll be good, maybe a little fluff, mute arisen - Freeform, oh but god there's gonna be angst, okay there's a lot of characters, theres gonna be some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-28 08:47:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12602792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfAthena/pseuds/DaughterOfAthena
Summary: While the Arisen is a fabled hero, a champion against the dragon, it couldn't be further from the truth. Arche, a mute fisherman, believed he would be confined to the small fishing village of Cassardis all of his life. Even with the knowledge that he wasn't from the village, he decided to let destiny take him where it wanted. But when a dragon attacks his home, Arche is forced to take up arms against the beast, to reclaim what was stolen, and to see that another link is added to the chain.





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my NaNoWriMo project. This will more than likely be unedited, seeing as I won't have much time to make edits. I'm  
> hoping this isn't going to be horrible and to have some kind of plot. For those who play dragon age, please check this game out! It's amazing!  
> For dragons dogma players, I hope you enjoy and like this! 
> 
> As of course, copy right goes to capcom. Characters are not mine for I am but a simple fanfic writer.

Arche sat with the other fishermen and boys, staring out into the sea. The sun was beginning to set, bringing darkness slowly onto Cassardis. The boy dug his toes into the sand, smiling to himself. One day he would go out to sea on his own, fish and provide for his village alone. Arche wouldn't need help of the men of the village. No, he would be able to throw out his net, sit in a boat for long hours, and wait for something to bite. He wouldn't be stuck in the village, wouldn't be watched because he was different. He'd be a man. 

Arche looked to his right, waving at Valmiro for his attention. Valmiro had been raised in the village, only two years older than Arche. His toothless smile warmed Arche’s heart, remembering when he helped the other boy pull his front tooth out. His black hair was growing out, getting long. Arche wondered if Valmiro would grow it out to his hips or keep it by his ears. It took a minute before the boy turned and smiled. 

“Hoy, do you need something, cos?” Valmiro asked. Arche patted his hip, not feeling his journal. The boy frowned and held up his hands, signing. 

_A… L… D… O… U… S._

Valmiro watched Arche’s hands carefully, needing the other boy to sign the letters again before understanding. 

“Aldous? I think he is with Quina in his home. Though, I cannot be certain.” Valmiro looked thoughtful, as though Arche’s question was serious. Frankly, Arche wanted to know where his father was so he could ask him a question. He had been sitting on the question since the boy had over heard someone mutter his name. 

Arche had been going to the boats, to go out and fish. That's what he did every day. One his way down from Aldous’s hut, he had over heard two men talking. 

“Strange one, that child.”

“Are you speaking of the boy, Arche, cos?”

“Aye. He is not like the rest of us. We don't even know where he came from.”

“That we don't, but Aldous has been raising him. No reason to question it.”

“He is still off putting, don't you say?”

Arche hadn't interrupted the conversation but had kept it in the back of his mind all day. Even Valmiro had noticed that he was more distracted than usual, almost pushing him out of the boat when he startled him from his thoughts. 

The fisherboy quietly got up from his spot next to Valmiro and waved, letting the rest of the fishermen know that he was retiring for the night. The men all waved and wished Arche a pleasant evening. Arche’s bare feet padded against the sand as he tried to run. It was difficult running up the sand, but once in solid dirt again, Arche had no trouble running to Aldous’s home. All he had to do was make a right at the inn, wave to the innkeep, and to go to the top of the hill. He remembered not to knock on the doors of the other fishers, knowing that most were retiring for the evening. Many of the people of Cassardis stayed in their homes once the sun went down, finding no reason to be outside when the moon came up. Arche, however, was notorious for staying up at the latest hours and adventuring. 

When Arche came to Aldous’s house, he pulled open the door and was hit with the smell of fish stew. The boy’s stomach growled, rumbling, and pained. Maker, he hadn't realized how hungry he was. Had he eaten all day?

From the kitchen, Quina poked her head around the corner and smiled. 

“Cos! How was fishing?” She asked, leaving the food to boil and greet Arche at the door. Quina was Aldous’s daughter, three years older than Arche, and next in line tone chieftain of the village. Her long brown hair was currently tied in a braid, probably because she was cooking, but usually she wore it down. Her brown eyes were dark like mud in the limited fire light. Arche didn't look anything like her. 

Arche was almost the opposite of Quina and Aldous. While his skin was brown like theirs, his hair was a wet sand color. His eyes were more a gold color, dotted with bits of green, rather than brown. And his nose and cheeks were dotted with freckles. Quina had fair and even skin, no blemishes. 

The younger boy held up his hands, gesturing for Quina to back up. The girl did and watched his hands, quick to realize he didn't have his journal on him. 

_A.. L.. D..O..U..S._

“Aldous?” Quina asked. She was quick to understand Arche’s signing. The boy nodded. 

“He is in his room. Pray tell, is something the matter?” Quina had lowered her voice, worried. She hated when Arche got hurt, wanting to know that he was okay. She was his sister, so it made sense that she would worry for him. Arche didn't like making Quina fret over him. All Arche did, however, was shake his head, and go to Aldous’s room. 

The chief was at a desk, a pair of spectacles hanging low on his nose as he seemed to be reading through a letter. Arche hesitated walking up and disturbing the man. Maybe his question wasn't that important. It could wait another day, couldn't it? 

Arche shook his doubt from his mind and walked over to Aldous’s desk. The man looked up and smiled at Arche, greeting him. The boy gestured for a writing quill, needing to write instead of sign. Aldous understood and handed his son a piece of parchment and the quill, along with the ink jar. 

_Aldous, what is wrong with me?_ Arche scribbled. Aldous read over the words and frowned. 

“''Tis nothing wrong with you, Arche,” was his response. The boy shook his head.

_Someone said I am not from Cassardis. Am I not one of you?_

Aldous stared at the question for a long time before placing his glasses on the desk, rubbing his nose. Arche waited, backing up from the desk and watching his father. Was there something wrong? Was his mother not Quina’s mother? Why was Aldous frowning and… he seemed pale. There must have been something wrong with Arche if his question made Aldous lose his composure. 

“Quina,” Aldous called. “Pray, Child, come for a moment. The three of us need to speak.”

Arche turned his head, looking over his shoulder as Quina came into the room and stood beside Arche. He was barely a centimeter taller than Quina now. That was good.

“Children, sit,” Aldous ordered. Quina and Arche sat in front of Aldous. Quina kept her knees bent and legs under her, keeping her dress down. Arche crossed his legs and stared up at his father. There was something very wrong. 

“Now, Quina, you know the story I am about to tell,” Aldous started. “But Arche has not.”

“I will not interrupt,” Quina nodded. Arche looked between the two and signed: _What._

“Arche, I have raised you as one of us: a fair fisherman. You will always be one of us and welcome. Pray the day you leave for the village will lose a blessing. But, when you were but a year of age, you were brought into the village.

“It was a summer morning. I had just woken when Pablos had beckoned for me. I had tried to question as to why I was being summoned, but the answer was more difficult. Pablos had not explained that outside the inn was a baby. The village had surrounded you, wondering why a babe was left alone. No one knew what to make of you. That is when I took you into my arms and decided to make you into my son.

“However, that was not the strange thing about your coming. ''Twas the lack of sound from you. Pablos did not know you were outside for you did not cry. You did not cry when the people of Cassardis surrounded you. You only looked and stared, watching. You watched me with wide eyes but never uttered a sound. ''Tis the only reason anyone would think something is wrong with you. I believe the common folk call it mute.”

Aldous paused in his short tale. Arche could barely process what he was saying. He was thirteen years and just now learning who he was. Or, in fact, learning that he doesn't know who he was. Who was his mother? His father? Did he have a family? Where was he from? Where had he come from? Where was his mother? Why was he left alone? There had to be more to his story.

Arche waited, watching, hoping. He needed to know that his mother was in the village. He needed to hear that everything was okay, that he wasn't a stranger from the outside. He needed Aldous to tell him that he was going to be okay.

But Aldous said nothing more. 

Arche quickly signed _No_ , stood up, and ran out the door. The boy could hear Quina shout for him, calling his name. But Arche didn't care to listen, didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to go back to Quina or Aldous. He wasn't their child or sibling. He was a stranger from the outside. His family was outside the village, outside of Cassardis. Maybe they were in Gran Soren. Maybe they had accidentally left him behind, or maybe he had been stolen and brought into the village. There was no way he would have been _left_. 

The boy felt the sting of tears as he raced down from Aldous’s house into the village. He paid no mind to the few fishers, the ones returning to their homes from the morning fish. He ignored Valmiro and Pablos, ignored everyone. His small hands slammed against the iron poles of the village gates. With a great heave, Arche pushed the gate open and continued running. He kept running and running, running until his lungs burned and his head began to spin. 

He hadn't gone far, not really. If he kept going, kept running, he would make it to the encampment. The soldiers were there, mostly training. Quina, Valmiro, and Arche had snuck into the encampment once. They had been curious as to how the soldiers trained. They watched them practice all day, mimicking their movements with sticks back at the village. It had been fun, more so than that. Arche craved to do it again. He wanted to pick up a stick and perry and block Valmiro’s moves. He wanted to be a swordsman. That was the only time that Arche didn't want to be a fisherman. He wanted to go and explore and fight monsters. He didn't wanna spend his life fishing. 

This was the second time that Arche ached for adventure. If he was a hero from tales, an adventurer, maybe he wouldn't feel lied to. He wouldn't feel like his life didn't make sense, that his past was a mystery. Maybe he could find his real family, his parents, and ask them why they had left them. He wouldn't have to worry about the Brine, the fish, the sea trying to take him. He wouldn't be trapped in Cassardis. He could see the world, to learn. 

The boy rubbed his eyes, sniffling. Maybe he could sleep at the encampment tonight. He would be safe, away from the monsters, but also away from Cassardis. Arche didn't have the stomach to return to Cassardis, to see Aldous and Quina. They had kept his origin to themselves, content to leave Arche without knowing that he wasn't like them. He wasn't a fisherman, not really. He wasn't Aldous’s son, wasn't Quina’s brother. He was a stranger. 

On the road, Arche could see firelight in the distance. A pleased feeling filled Arche as he hoped it was a soldier out on his patrol. But a heavy feeling grew as Arche got closer, curious now. He heard the clanking of metal and wood, of stones on wood. The sounds of nails scraping on something solid, like a wooden wall. Then the giggling and laughter of something… nonhuman. It didn't sound like children or adults, which made Arche uneasy. 

Then he saw them.

Goblins. 

And they saw Arche.

The boy froze, staring as the goblins hopped and jumped, pointing at him. His blood rushed from his face, cold sweat racing down his temple. The goblins came running at him, running for him, and Arche had seconds to turn on his heels and run back for Cassardis. His bare feet hit hard against the dirt, his panting breath coming in short gasps as he tried to run, tried to sprint for safety. Though, as he tried his hardest, Arche’s attempt was futile. The boy tripped, landing on his face outside of Cassardis. If he would have made it just a couple more feet, he would have had his hands on the gates and been inside, safe. But no, his face was in the dirt, small pebbles sticking to his cheek. 

Arche was flipped over onto his back. Two goblins had his arms while a third has his leg. Arche tried to fight, unable to do much but wiggle. He couldn't scream for help, couldn't holler. He was practically powerless as a fourth goblin hopped onto his chest. The creature was red, the tiny horns breaking skin. It had disgusting yellow teeth, rotten and crooked. Arche wanted to puke at the smell of it’s breath; it smelled like rotten fish and blood. It held a knife, like one bandits would carry. Arche’s eyes went wide as he watched the knife, watched the goblin before the creature swiped the knife across Arche’s face. 

For the first time in his life, Arche screamed. It was animalistic, as though two wolves were fighting. He screamed as the knife went across his face, diagonal. It cut from right to left. He could feel the blood dripping down from the newly made wound, making the unshed tears now rush down his cheeks. Arche tried to wiggle and fight free of the goblins, but he wasn't able to. He was too small, too weak, and there was only one of him. He couldn't-

“Cos!”

Arche heard feet stomping, heavy steel coming towards him. It was seconds later before a village guard was hovering over him, Quina helping him up, and Valmiro and Aldous carrying him back into the village. 

Arche wouldn't remember the rest of the night, not really. He would remember being bandaged up, but nothing else. He wouldn't remember Quina and Aldous checking him, bandaging his wound after a few hours, or bringing him food. He wouldn't remember the concerned villages coming to see him. The only thing he would remember was his promise to never be defenseless again.


	2. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate working because I can never get this out on time. Novemeber 30 is going to end up having two chapters posted together I swear.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy a slightly aged up Arche and some resolve he comes up with!

Arche sat in the floor, a piece of mirror in front of him as he studied his features. He had just cut his hair, cutting away small strands so that the longest pieces touched his earlobes. He tried to run his fingers through his hair, trying to part it so that more of his hair was on his right side. The attempt to cover his face, the branding scar, was futile. Everyone in the village knew what had happened, knew the scar on his face, and it wouldn't change anything. He was stuck in the village, forced to practice his swordsmanship alone in the cove at the far end of the beach, and to remain the outcast. While the people hardly ever brought it up in conversation, Arche knew he would never truly belong. 

There was a quiet knock at Arche’s door, making the fisherman leave his spot on the floor to answer it. He had just started living on his own, a roof of his own given to Aldous on his sixteenth year. His small space was adjacent to the inn, a convenient spot to hear the gossip of weary travelers through thin walls. Arche would lay awake at night, listening to the marveling tales of travelers, their trails to reach the small fishing village, and their hopes for their next journey. Arche ached to leave the village, to see the Stones of the South, to see Gran Soren, the figure of a man on the northern hills, and so many more places. He wanted to find the mysteries of Gransys. 

Maybe some day he would get the nerve to buy a sword and leave the village. 

But for now, he was opening the door was Quina, giving a small smile as he moved to the side to let her in. While they weren't related, Arche still saw the older girl as his sister. She cared for him, as did Aldous, and made sure he was well. Arche appreciated the sentiment and the care, enjoying the company from time to time. And it was a nice surprise when Quina visited him. 

“Good evening, Arche,” she greeted as she came into his home. Arche nodded. He noticed a basket in her hands and waited for Quina to face him before gesturing to it. 

“Oh! This?” She held up the basket. Whatever was inside was covered by a simple cloth. 

“I put together a basket of goods for you,” she said, setting the basket on the table in the corner. “A couple festive pies, dried fish, fruits, and greenwarish. I also was able to get a bottle of wine for you.” Quina was smiling. Arche signed a thank you to the girl. She was beaming with delight as Arche reached into the basket and grabbed a pie. Maker the pies were his favorite, tasting like berries and cinnamon and making him feel warm inside. 

Arche couldn't help his sheepish grin as he ate the small pie. Quina rambled on about this and that, about the soldiers arriving in town, the fish supply, and the travelers arriving. Arche didn't want to be rude and tell her that he knew most of those things, that he still lived in the village, but he didn't. He just nodded and listened, let her talk, and wished her a good evening once she left. 

When Quina was gone, Arche ran to his bed and looked under it, feeling around. He patted the dirt floor and firmly grasped his hand around a hilt. Slowly, Arche pulled a rusted sword out from under his bed. He promised himself that one day he would save enough for a decent weapon at the shop in the village, but for now, the rusted sword was enough. Arche also dug around for the wood shield that he had made out of extra crates. When the sun finally set, Cassardis engulfed in shadow, Arche left his home. 

The moon wasn't high, not yet. It would be another hour or two before the moon lite up Cassardis is its silver glow. For now, Arche would have to mindless wander with his lantern, shield, and sword, to the cove at the far end of the beach. Arche found himself at the beach almost nightly, enjoying the cool breeze from the ocean. He enjoyed watching stars light up the sky as he practiced with ease fighting movements. 

Arche had a dummy set up, a scarecrow of sorts. He had set it up a couple months ago to try and practice fighting something his size. One day, he thought to himself, he would go out and fight goblins instead of practice dummies. His experience being a fighter would come from killing goblins instead of made up enemies. Maybe one day, when he was stronger, Arche would go and fight bandits and harpies, maybe even a wolf. Maybe he would enlist in the Duke’s army and fight Maker’s knows what: skeletons, underdead, direwolves, phantoms, everything! He would fight and save the day, save damsels and other soldiers and be a hero. Maybe he would save the day and get a kiss! 

Before his thoughts had him running into the stone wall again, Arche shook the thoughts dismissively and went to set up his practice dummy. It took only a few moments before the thing was standing, its arms stretched out and bucket helmet lopsided. Arche slid his shield up his right arm, holding his sword in his left hand. Apparently, besides his lack of speech, everyone in the village found it strange that Arche used his left hand. Nonetheless, when fighting monsters, no one cared which hand Arche was comfortable with. The only thing that mattered was living and surviving. 

With practiced ease, Arche attacked the dummy in swift and graceful movements. It was muscle memory, to slash across, slash diagonal, broad cut up, stab straight, and repeat. Every once in awhile, Arche would pretend to block, hiding behind his shield, or he would shove forward to throw the dummy off balance. When he did that, the dummy would flop to the ground and needed to be picked up. Arche didn't mind taking a moment to pick up the object, needing a minute to stretch his muscles now and then. 

No, the aches and rush he got from fighting was what made it bearable in the village. The worried and skeptical glances stopped bothering Arche when he started his nightly routine of fighting. The whispering and gossip of him also caused him less distress. Why should it bother him? The joy he got from learning and practicing swordsmanship was all he needed. It was his way of becoming independent. He didn't need to rely on the village, Aldous, or Quina, to take care of him or protect him. He wouldn't have villagers or soldiers coming to save him next time a goblin attacked because he wouldn't be defenseless. He would be able to protect himself. The gruesome scar across his face fueled his movements, fueled his abilities to keep hacking and slashing at the dummy. Never again would a scar be left on him because he couldn't fight back.

When Arche was worn out, all energy gone, he slumped into the sand, his sword layin beside him and his shield propped up in the sand. Arche stared out onto the sea, watching the easy and graceful movements of the waves. The water crashed against the shore, the foam made bright white by the moonlight. Arche’s gaze turned from the water, not lingering long. It was as though if he stared too hard the Brine would come out of the sea and eat him whole. 

No, instead, he focused on the moon and the stars. Arche smiled to himself as he crossed his legs, watching the stars shine and shimmer. His heart felt whole, his chest filled with warmth. Maybe one day would get to sit on this beach with someone he loved. He would take their hand and hold it tight, never let them go. He would hope they never wanted him to leave either. He wouldn't leave his beloved it ever. 

As hopeless as he was to his thoughts, Arche almost completely dismissed the idea of anyone being his beloved unless he left Cassardis. No one in the walls of Cassardis wanted to be around him, at least not for long periods of time. Quina and Aldous were expeditions because they had raised him. Valmiro was an exception too because he was Arche’s best friend. They could spend hours together, Valmiro telling stories of what he dreams of doing and Arche listening. He could be around Valmiro and the other boy treated Arche as though nothing was different about him. It was endearing and heartwarming, making Arche feel as though he belonged. 

Arche slowly stood up, leaving his belongings in the sand as he made for the shoreline. He wasn't wearing shoes, a common practice. He could sneak around without leather suffocating his feet. But his toes dug into the water sand as the water gently lapped over the shore. Arche was a little sweaty from his practice, needing to freshen up before retiring until morning, but not wanting to submerge himself in the ocean. No, he would have to use the dummy’s bucket and bring water back to his home. 

And he did just that. Arche quickly put the dummy where he had been hiding all morning, being careful so that no one else saw it. Then he took its wooden helmet and dropped it into the water. When it was mostly filled, Arche carried it back to his home. He knew he couldn't carry all of his things, so it made sense to place the water above the fire so it would be warm when he was ready to wash up. On his way back out to retrieve his sword and shield, Arche considered leaving. He stopped, looked over to the village gates, and stared a moment. It would be easy, easy to leave. He wouldn't be forced to be a fisherman, wouldn't be trapped in a village that saw him as a ill omen. He would be free to start over a new life, turn a new life, and be who he wanted. He could meet new people and be part of something that wanted him. And he wasn't defenseless now. He could fight. He knew how to wield a sword and shield. The Duke could use him in his ranks. He wasn't a simple fisherman. 

But Arche didn't leave. He continued back to the cove to grab his sword and shield. Tonight wasn't the night for him to journey out into Gransys. Something didn't feel right about leaving, especially at night. Trouble lurked in the shadows, and Arche wasn't ready to face those lurking for prey at night. Maybe if he was stronger, more experienced, he wouldn't mind journeying at night. For now, it was a bad idea. 

The rusted sword was a gentle weight in Arche’s hand. His shield felt him a protective blanket wrapped around arm. These two things could protect him if he ran into more goblins. He would be safe, wouldn't have to wear a brand of defeat ever again. 

Arche looked out at his surroundings as he returned home. For a moment, his gaze stuck to the pier before shaking his head and taking longer strides to get to his house. He was tired, worn out from spending hours in a small boat, waiting, hoping fish would bite. He was tired from running errands for Aldous after fishing. Arche frowned as he thought about supper, unsure whether he had eaten or not. He had finished Aldous’s errands, returned home, cut his hair, and then Quina came over… no, he hadn't eaten besides the festive pie. After cleaning up, Arche would need to eat something. 

As the door closed to his home, Arche hid his sword and shield back under his bed. He made quick work of cleaning up and then heating the fish soup Quina had brought. As he sat by the dying fire, watching the embers burn and slowly die as he ate, Arche thought about the pier. He had never seen anything out there before. But tonight, as he climbed into bed and closed his eyes, Arche couldn't stop thinking about the pier. 

Had he seen a lantern, or had he made that up?


	3. Day Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me being late again. Here is chapter three, day three of NaNoWriMo!! Just as a reference, Arche is twenty in this chapter, just in case that isn't clear in the chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Arche stared at the notice board, reading through a request put in by the grocer. Twenty rabbits, collect the meat and preserve the skin. Nothing that was too difficult, but hunting rabbits wasn’t the most easy task. It would require traps, time. Arche didn’t want to wait on lures to bring rabbits out. He wanted to get the request finished and to be rewarded. Plus, setting a trap didn’t mean he would even catch a rabbit. Traps were too risky.

“Eyeing the notice board again, cos?” Pablos asked from behind the counter. Arche turned and nodded. He quickly signed _rabbit request_ for Pablos so that he knew which one he had been looking at. The innkeeper nodded and smiled. 

“Don’t feel like settin’ traps, do ya?” Arche nodded again. “Why not try a bow? Sit in a spot and wait. Bound to bring a better harvest.”

Arche frowned and walked up to Pablos’s table, taking the journal on his hip and signing for the ink quill. Pablos handed the quill over and Arche scribbled, “But I do not have a bow, nor have I ever used one.”

Pablos laughed and smiled, looking up at the boy. Arche was still frowning, not quite sure why Pablos was was smiling. Arche watched the short man bend down and place a bow on the counter. While it would work, it was an old bow. The wood was no longer yellow and fresh, as though it had been cut and carved yesterday. The bow was a dirt brown color, the string looking to be the only thing that was new. Arche furrowed his brows as Pablos pushed the bow towards the younger man. “Try this,” the innkeep said. 

Arche stared at the bow, trying to figure it out. He slowly picked up the weapon, feeling awkward. He first held it with his left hand, trying to mimic firing an arrow with his right. The action felt odd, as though he was off balance. He had to switch the bow into his right hand, aiming straight and mimicking letting an arrow loose again. With his dominate hand firing the pretend arrow, it felt a little more natural. Arche repeated the action a couple more times before signing, _arrows?_

Pablos nodded his understanding and reach below his counter again, placing arrows onto the counter. Arche gently grabbed one, notching it, aiming, and trying to get comfortable. The movement was straining, testing muscles Arche had yet to develop. He had been practicing with a sword and shield. He didn’t think he would need or want to use a bow. But this request required it; Arche didn’t want to wait and have traps set. So, the desire to be paid for the rabbits beat the strain in his muscles. 

The mute boy placed the bow down, adjusting his leather breast guard and tug up his boats. While he still wore his cotton fishing shirt and plain brown trousers, it was the best protection he had. Cassardis didn’t offer a lot of armors, so Arche would have to go to Gran Soren for anything better. But he was also saving his gold for a new sword, so armor would have to wait. For now, Arche signed, _quiver_ and began to fill it with arrows. He was able to fit about thirty arrows in the quiver that Pablos had handed him. That would be plenty for the rabbit hunt, plus some for practice. 

The boy took his shield from the floor and offered it to Pablos, at first, the innkeeper looked confused. Arche took a second to write, _keep it until I return. We will trade when I bring the bow back._

“Are you certain, goodfisher?” Pablos asked. “You could keep it. I do not have a use for the thing myself. Think of it as a gift for your age.”

Arche stared at the innkeeper, struck in awe. Someone had remembered his birthday, or yet, his arrival into the village. Quina and Aldous had already given their words of affirmation to Arche earlier that day. Valmiro was going to spend the evening with Arche, drinking a wine bottle he had bartered off one of the guards yesterday. But to have someone else offer kind words to Arche on the day he was left by his mysterious mother, it felt warming. Arche couldn’t help the warmth in his cheeks or the way he smiled at Pablos’s kindness. Arche signed _thank you_ to Pablos, for both the bow and remembering he was like any other fisher, then proceeded to leave the inn. 

His gentle stride was even and graceful, as though Arche had done this a million times over. Since the day he had been attacked by the goblins, Arche slowly grew more as a fighter than a fisher. While he understood how to gut fish, how to catch them, and all the other ins and outs to being a fisherman, Arche craved the world. Before the goblin attack, he was content to live as a fisherman, to marry a girl and raise a family in Cassardis. Since his scar, people have been avoiding him like a disease. He wasn’t going to get a girl, wasn’t going to raise a family, and surely wasn’t going to be staying in Cassardis. Soon, very soon, he would go to the encampment, find whichever soldier was in charge, and enlist into the Duke’s regime. He wouldn’t be rendered hopeless again, being taken down by a simple foe like a goblin. He was going to get stronger and find out who he is. 

But that would be in the future. For now, the afternoon breeze made Arche smile as he left Cassardis’s walls. To his right was the beach, the beach that the goblins gathered on. To the north was the encampment. Traders and travelers came from the encampment into Cassardis. Sometimes they were there to trade goods, other times it was for a ride across the sea. The travelers were Arche’s favorite part about sleeping in the home connected to the inn. He could hear thrilling tales all night. The tales he overheard made Arche ache to jump up and go out on his own adventure. But not yet.

Instead, Arche pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back, notching it slowly. He took aim at the first rabbit he saw. With one eye closed, his breathing slowing just slightly, Arche waited, waited, waited-

_Thunk!_

The arrow missed and lodged itself in the tree behind the rabbit. The rabbit jumped up, startled, and dashed away. Arche shook his head and rubbed his face with his free hand. This was going to be harder than he had thought. 

Arche waited a couple minutes for another rabbit to appear. This time, Arche took his time aiming. The first arrow had been too high, so if he just lowered it just slightly-

_Thumf!_

The arrow stuck up in the ground, a few inches away from the second rabbit. Arche stomped his foot as the little creature darted away, just like the first one had. Maybe he should have set out traps instead. The traps wouldn’t be getting stuck in the ground or in the trees. The traps would have goodies for the little bunnies to nibble on before breaking their tiny necks.

Arche ran his fingers through his hair before taking out another arrow. Just a few feet away from the tree, beside a boulder, sat another rabbit. Arche just had to watch, to be patient, and fire as soon as he was confident that the arrow would hit its target. He had to focus on the rabbit, it’s small, furry, brown body. He had to be sure that the arrow would drive into it, digging into it so that it felt nothing as the sharp point took it’s life.

With a deep exhale, Arche relaxed his fingers and let the arrow loose. He closed his eyes, waiting hoping-

_Reeee!_

Arche looked up to see the animal slumped, laying on the ground, with an arrow sticking up from its body. The boy smiled, slinging the bow over his shoulders as he ran to grab it. For sure, the creature was dead, still warm, but dead. Arche smiled at his prize as he tied its feet to his belt. That was one down, nineteen more to go. If he got ten, he would take them to Heraldo, then go after ten more. It made more sense than dragging twenty rabbits into the village all at once.

Arche continued in a similar fashion for a couple more hours. He would need breaks, his muscles cramping due to the unfamiliar movements with the bow. He had practiced more before today, his muscles might be more accustomed to using a bow, but he wasn’t. Using a bow was only because he didn’t want to spend a week hunting rabbits when he could easily do it in two or three with a weapon. If the little bastards weren’t quick, he would have come out and hunted them with his sword. 

As the sun began to set, Arche finally had his tenth rabbit on his loop. He didn’t want to hunt by night. It would be too difficult to hunt rabbits with only the light from his lantern and the moon. Also, Arche wasn’t ready to face the goblins at night. In the day, he was fine fighting the goblins that roamed the beach. But at night? An unsettling feeling settled in his stomach. The memory of the night that a goblin slashed a scar across his face flashed before his eyes, making Arche sick. He wouldn’t hunt at night, not ever. It was too dangerous for him. He would have to finish this request in the morning.

The boy secured his equipment and wandered back into the village. Just in time, since Heraldo was just about to close his shop. Arche shook his head as he realized he had left his journal on Pablos’s desk, but he slowly signed _rabbits for your request. Only ten now_ to Heraldo. He had to sign twice before the grocer understood what the mute man was saying. When there was an understanding, Heraldo took the rabbits with a thanks, offering Arche half the reward. Arche shook his head. Honestly, he wanted to make sure that the task was fully finished before he received any kind of payment. With that, Arche made a quick stop at Pablos’s inn for his journal. Pablos asked about the hunt, how he did with the bow, and Arche wrote his truthful answer: Difficult, but better than waiting on traps. The innkeeper laughed, agreed, and wished Arche a good evening. 

Arche held his shield as he walked to his home. The bow was still around his shoulder, the quiver a new weight against his spine. It wasn’t that it wasn’t comfortable, but it was different. Arche didn’t think he could carry a shield, a sword, and a bow if he went adventuring. No, he would have to pick between his sword and shield. If he got better with the bow, he would take it. Until then, he would stick with his shield. Using a bow was only needed for this request.

Before Arche got to his house, out on the pier, there was a light. The sun had gone down and the moon was barely coming up. But, against the dark blue sky, Arche could plainly see a lantern, hanging lowly in midair over the dock. The mute man had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming up the lantern. 

No, by the Maker, there was a lantern. 

Dread settled into Arche’s stomach, making him pick up pace to get home. Once there, he went in and slammed his door closed, not liking the mysterious floating light. This wasn’t the first time he had seen the light, but he didn’t like it. He thought he had made it up on the beach. Arche didn’t think anything of it, but now it looked as though it was a phantom light. There was no possible way for a light to float on its own! Was there?

Before Arche could think more of it, he set his weapons down on his chair, yanked off his boots and took off his leather guard. The fisherman carefully undressed until he wore only his small clothes before curling into bed. The chilled air from the ocean filled his lungs as his eyes closed and muscles began to relax. He knew that he would be sore when he woke, but it would be a good kind of sore. It would be real, something he knew he caused. 

He knew he was getting stronger.


	4. Day Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are! Twenty four year old Arche... And some exciting developments. This is going kind of fast paced but, just so we're clear, this is just so we can get to the main pawn sooner. It'll be fun! I promise!

Resolve begins with action. Arche had lived by those words since he had been attacked by a goblin elven years ago. He had sought out a way of protection, to never be left at the hands of evil creatures because he wasn’t strong enough. 

Arche had gotten up at sunrise, like he always did. He stretched and ruffled his hair a bit before stroking it down. Most of it flopped to the right side of his head. Arche pulled on his cotton shirt, determined to make the morning go by as quickly as possible so that he could see about notice board requests. If there were no more requests, Arche believed that he might actually go out and fight some goblins on his own. At night. It would be a huge step for him, to finally face the creatures that had scarred him. But it would all depend on his fishing this morning.

He quickly pulled on a pair of cotton white shorts that matched his shirt, slipped on his sandals, and left his home for the day. Little did he know, today would be the last time he woke up in Cassardis in his own room. 

The morning sea breeze filled Arche’s lungs with salt, making the man smile. He slowly came down the slope from his home and turned right, going to the center of the village. Quina waved, seeing him as he came into view. The man smiled and returned the wave, jogging to meet her. He signed a greeting before she hugged him. A normal greeting for the two. 

“Good morning, cos,” Quina said, releasing Arche. 

_Good morning, Quina._ Arche signed. 

“Say, I thought that perhaps after fishing that you and I go and collect some herbs. It would do you good to get away from the violence and fighting you have been doing of late.” Quina was still smiling. “Father agrees too. He believes time without steel in hand would bring you back to your younger self.”

Arche nodded, agreeing to go along with her. He didn’t have an argument as to why he shouldn’t go out and collect herbs. He planned on hunting goblins at night anyways. He would be able to do both.

As the two began to head down to the pier, to see Arche off on his fish, one of the village guards began reading a decree:

“Here ye, here ye! The dragon has been spotted! By decree of the duke, those capable are to take up arms! Prepare against the beast’s attack!”

Quina scoffed. “A dragon,” she said. “No other person has seen the dragon, so what are we to do? Prepare for a creature that was killed by the duke only a few years ago?”

Arche shrugged, not really knowing what to reply back to Quina. Someone must have seen the dragon-

The ground of Cassardis shook violent, the waves crashing against the shore as though there was a storm. It took only a glance to see the flames lighting up the beach and hearing screams. Arche froze as he watched the massive lizard on the beach, swiping and clawing at the fishermen. He stood petrified as the few city guards went running towards the beast. Arche heard Quina calling for the children to follow her, to get them to safety. He heard the shouts and screams all around him, yet his body refused to move. He couldn’t turn away from looking at the monster on the beach, killing the villagers that scoffed at him. To them, mainly the priest, Arche was everything the village didn’t need; a ill omen he had called him. Arche was a sign that darker times were to come and that the people of Gransys were about to face their demise. 

As the soldiers ran to protect the village, one of them was swatted back by the dragon’s huge paw. His body flew over Cassardis, but his sword and shield were left, abandoned. Arche stared at the metal weapons before running and grabbing the sword, charging towards the dragon. It was impulsive, truly, but Arche had a rush of adrenaline go through him. Someone had to confront the beast, someone had to take up arms, and the only person actually training was Arche. The city soldiers never went and practiced their skills. They simply believed that they would fight whatever attacked the village. That wasn’t the case now as a fisherman was taking a sword and running right for a fire breathing dragon.

In Arche’s defense, he also got burned to death. He hadn’t been paying attention to the fire and almost ran right through it. Luckily, he rolled and dodged it, just barely. If he were to come out of this fight alive, he was going to have to pay attention.

Arche got up, ignoring the dirt sticking to him as he ran to the dragon’s left leg, jumping and taking hold. His grip wasn’t the most stable, granting him a few seconds to hack and slash at the rough scales. The steel in Arche’s hand hardly did any kind of damage, the scales too thick to cause any wounds. It would be his luck if anything hurt the beast.

The fisherman dropped to the ground, his palm sweaty and slipping from the scales of the dragon. When Arche’s feet hit the sand again, he barely had enough time to raise the sword and fight against the dragon’s swinging paw. The momentum made the human man fly back, going more than ten fight away from the dragon. Arche’s back skidded against the sand, his shirt soaking in the gentle washing tide. His ribs ached, probably bruised. His muscles were burning, one fire from the strain of fighting while hanging on to the dragon. His head was pounding and when he tried to open his eyes he only saw stars. 

In the far distance, Arche swore he could hear someone talking. At first it was muffled, as though they were talking through a bunch of cloth. Slowly but surely, the whispering got louder and Arche could hear _something._ It sounded foreign, like someone from across the seas had come to whisper words into Arche’s ears. Then it was louder, and as Arche opened his eyes, he felt as though he was thirteen again, staring at the goblin with a knife.

As dizzy and weakened as he was, Arche could do little else but stare as the dragon lowered its single claw towards Arche. The fisherman had no time to react before the top of its claw touched his chest and pain flared in Arche’s ribs. 

 

He had never felt anything like it; it was as though flames had been ignited in his chest while the skin and his ribs were being torn apart. His back arched, his body lifting off the sand. When his back hit the sand again, cooling his burning flesh with the cold sea water, Arche opened his eyes half way to watch the dragon. Through lidded eyes, Arche watched as a human heart was floating into the dragon’s mouth, more strange words being mumbled…

Then darkness. 

 

Arche was in and out of conscience for several hours. He heard Quina once, something about needing help. He couldn’t remember, just feeling heavy and tired. Everything went black again after that. It was warm next time he woke up. The might have been a fire going. Arche hoped that none of the boat or houses were on fire. He hoped that everyone was okay, even if they all hated him. It wouldn’t be fair for all of them to die. 

When he finally came to, unable to sleep any more, Arche could feel the damage he took. His whole body screamed at him as he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. How had he lived? How was he still feeling pain? The dragon had eaten, what he assumed, was his heart? Arche looked down at his tattered, bloody shirt, and to his surprise, a brandish scar marked his chest, right where his heart should have been. When he tried to reach up and feel for a beat, a voice rang in his ears. 

_”If you would face me... “_

Arche yanked his hand back, not liking the voice in his head. It sounded like… like… the dragon. The dragon had been talking to him in a weird language. Now he could understand what the dragon was saying? How was this even possible?

The fisherman took a moment before placing a hand over his heart again to hear the voice.

_”If you would face me…. Take up arms, newly Arisen! Take up arms newly Arisen…. For my kind do not heed the toothless…. Newly Arisen, walker of the path….take up arms. To me….come to me.”_

Arche stared at the wooden floor of…. Of…. Aldous’s home, wondering why the dragon was calling him to take up arms. He couldn’t… it was a fairy tale. The last Arisen that Gransys had seen was Duke Edmun Dragonsbane. He had defeated the dragon long ago, becoming duke for his deeds. Arche couldn’t be an Arisen. Could he?

The warning seemed clear. Take up arms, face the dragon. Maybe he would get his heart back, maybe he would die trying. The odds were all equal here. But that didn’t stop Arche from getting up from his cot on the floor, slowly making towards a table with new clothes, and changing. Of course, he changed quickly into a clean cotton shirt and cotton shorts. If he was to fight the dragon, Arche was going to need his weapons, if not better ones. He was going to need a stronger sword or a bigger shield. Or both. Or learn how to wield magic. That would be more difficult, but it would be helpful, wouldn’t it?

Arche felt the least bit prepared, unsure what he was doing. He was going to grab a sword, run up a mountain, and fight a dragon. The dragon he nearly killed him just hours ago. How was he supposed to face it now?

Arche rubbed his face, about to leave Arche’s room when he heard two voices, a man’s and woman’s:

“Are you certain? It glows?”

“Yes, it does. But his heart lies still. I cannot hear nor feel it.”

“I do not like this. It is ill work, an omen. Ill times are to come.”

The front door opened and closed as Arche came around the corner. Quina turned on her heels, almost slamming into Arche as he stood at the corner. His intense eyes stared into Quina’s soft ones. She looked like a scared rabbit, ready to jump at the wrong moves. Slowly, surely, Arche signed, _I am leaving Cassardis._

Quina stared at him, starting to say something about needing his rest for his wound to heal, but Arche didn’t listen. No, he opened the front door, was greeted by the warm afternoon breeze. He looked out onto the city of Cassardis, seeing the damage done by the dragon. It was a miracle more wasn’t destroyed, but things weren’t good. He couldn’t lift his eyes from the smoke coming from the houses by the beach, knowing that those places took most of the damage. The dragon had had its way with Cassardis; destroying the buildings and taking Arche’s heart. 

At his house, Arche grabbed his sword and shield. If he needed it, he would come back and grab the bow. For now, Arche just needed a small bag of rations, his weapons, his makeshift armor, and his gold. If he was going to fight the dragon, Arche would need to buy a new sword. Something less fragile and with less rust. When he felt ready, his leather boots, worker’s pants, and knitted shirt was on, Arche left his home, closing the door gently and made for the front gates of Cassardis.

And he would have made it out on his own had the stone by the stables not nearly exploded and a man fall out of the sky appear before him.

Things were getting worse.


End file.
